


Not Lost, But Found

by anonymouschupacabra (accordingtomyresearch)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 18:43:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15125585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accordingtomyresearch/pseuds/anonymouschupacabra
Summary: Memories of a home flooded her mind and she had to turn her face away from the mirror. It was too painful to remember, yet somehow also too important to ignore. It was what was fueling her now, though not a moment went by that she wasn’t desperately trying to push aside years of anguish to focus on what she needed to concentrate on right now: finding her son.





	Not Lost, But Found

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was made as part of a commission for @kitomo commissioned by @forfandomsaken
> 
>  
> 
> [accompanying art can be found here](https://actuallylotor.tumblr.com/post/175437270078/not-lost-but-found-modern-greek-mythology-au)

* * *

The last rays of sunlight dipped below the craggy, mountainous edge of the horizon, taking it’s fiery light with it and leaving the Arizona desert cast in a somber cobalt hue. The faint glow of the light from the town hummed in the distance, creating an aura of warm radiance in the ever colder landscape. Thin cycles of cool, quick breezes swept through the meandering roads, creating miniature dust cyclones that were dispersed by one of the occasional cars that drove through them. 

It was late. The heat of the summer sun had baked the cracked, red, dust covered desert, leaving it brittle as the night chill settled in. Just around the time of year when afternoon spilled messily into nighttime which began earlier than the setting of the sun.  

The ground crunched under her feet as Krolia walked steadfast towards the only building this far outside of the town. A low, just nice enough to not be ramshackled looking bar set on the edge of a very long, very lonely road. It was a flat, squat sort of structure, dark in color from the wood and yet ashen from the salted desert around them. There was a constant hum of music and chatter that permeated the air around it which grew louder as Krolia approached. 

Despite its unassuming appearance, it held a potential that Krolia had been looking for all long. All her searching and all her digging and all her work had led her here. She’d been told to go there, that someone who would recognize her knew what she was looking for and could help her. All she had was a hope that she’d finally get what she’d been searching so long for. 

Stepping up the long, shallow steps with quick sure movements, Krolia pulled the collar of her jacket up further around her neck. There was a protesting hiss but she ignored it, dipping her head as she pushed open the front door. 

Inside was much like the outside; a grey ashen brown wood that looked just put together and clean enough that it wasn’t off putting. Despite the set sun outside, inside no one had bothered lighting more than a few candles on the tables and on some shelves making it dark and dim and difficult to see exactly who was sitting at each of the tables and the bar. A fleeting thought in Krolia’s mind told her that this was how they wanted it to be. She liked it better this way for her too. She passed a cursory glance over the room, trying to pick out any familiar faces but everyone was obscured in shadow. 

Pulling her collar around her even higher, she headed for an empty seat at the bar, leaving a good amount of room between her and the other patrons. She leaned forward on the counter, holding herself up on her elbows and waved a few fingers at the bartender to get their attention. Ignoring the stares of a figure at the far end of the bar across from her, she watched the young bartender walk over towards her. He was tall, about her height, but twice as broad with muscular arms, one being a sort of metal prosthetic. The short cropped black haired undercut he sported was juxtapositioned by the long tuft of white hair that sat at the front of his head.

“What can I get you?” he said, tossing the towel he’d been cleaning glasses with over his shoulder. 

“Whatever you have on tap that’s good,” she said, glancing over his shoulder at the figure still staring at her. He gave her a brief nod and turned to grab a glass before he stuck out her hand and stopped him. “Actually wait no, just…” she sighed, “give me about three fingers of whiskey, straight.” 

He gave her quiet amused huff and then reached for a different glass. She watched him pour the amber liquid into the glass, giving her a generous three fingers of whiskey, before sliding it over at her. 

“Thanks,” she nodded, taking the glass in her hand. She held it up to him for a moment, and then brought it to her lips, downing half of it in one go. The burn was nothing she wasn’t used to as she swallowed back the alcohol. Forcing her eyes down on the rim of her glass, she could still feel the heat of the figure’s stare on her skin.

After a few minutes, and a few less dramatic sips of whiskey later, she decided that she had had quite enough. She lifted her gaze up to meet the stare of the figure only to find they had left, an empty void in their place. Feeling slightly unnerved by the sudden departure, she glanced around the bar, trying to see if she could spot them in the dark room, but to no avail. 

“Excuse me,” she spoke up, waving over the bartender again. He walked over to her, leaning down to hear. “That person who was sitting over there,” she gesturing with the edge of her glass to the now empty seat, “do you know who that was?” 

He looked strained and sighed, like he wasn’t sure how to phrase what he was going to say. “The patrons of this bar… they expect a certain amount of privacy… it’s kind of part of the reason this whole thing works. We don’t really do names here.” 

She gave him a frown but didn’t press any further.  _ So much for the potential. _

Sending another cursory glance around the bar, she started to see what he meant. Everyone else had the same sort of guard up around them, whether it was with high collars and jackets or with dark, stealy glares and intimidation. The chatter was loud enough to mix with the scratchy, tinny sounding music pouring out through the small speakers on the walls, but it was low enough that Krolia could tell that people were taking care not to be overheard. 

Krolia nodded. “Thanks anyway.” She lifted the glass and downed the rest in one go. Reaching into her leather jacket pocket, she pulled out her wallet and fished out a few bills, sliding them across the bar to the bartender with an appreciative look. He took the cash and gave her a small nod back. She got up from her stool, pulling her jacket collar tighter around herself again as she headed out.

Outside the sun had already completely set, leaving the vast desert cold and dark and blue all around her. Descending the shallow steps, she pulled out her keys, spinning them quickly in hand before fingering out the one she needed for her bike. She came up to her motorcycle, a once shiny but now faded and beaten up sport bike that had seen more action than it truly showed. 

Throwing her leg over the side, she straddled the seat, turning on the ignition and reaching for her helmet. As usual there was the hiss of disapproval from her collar but she ignored it, fitting it over her head securely. Revving the engine, she looked out on the road ahead, and all its twists and turns through the forbidding desert and gave out another small sigh. 

She felt like that bar was suppose to hold more answers than questions. She felt frustrated and unsatisfied. She was tired and annoyed. And beyond all that, still hopeful. 

Kicking up the stand, Krolia placed her feet on the rests and sped off into the night.

* * *

 

The lack of a permanent home had never truly been an issue for Krolia before until now. Before, the constant moving was simply part of who she was, and what she had to do. But now, she’d do anything to have her own space. 

Not that the Fire Lion Motel wasn’t quickly becoming her home. She’d been there two whole weeks now, much longer than she’d ever stayed in one place before. Well… that wasn’t exactly truly. But it was the longest she’d stayed in a while. 

She stuck her card key into the slot and waited for the low buzzing sound and green light of the granted entry. Once inside her motel room, Krolia kicked off her boots and tossed them into the far corner where she kept the pile of bags she used to hold her meger items. 

The room wasn’t as horrible as motel rooms go. She’d certainly been in far worse. It had the typically horrendous color scheme of greenish creams, and horrid browns, and thick shag carpeting that seemed to soak up any and all dirt from the outside world. But the bed was surprisingly comfortable, and she had a bathtub in the bathroom, and there was even a small kitchenette with a table to eat at and a TV to watch. As far as Krolia was concerned, this was heaven. 

Careful to pull all the curtains closed, she made sure to lock the door before peeling off her jacket and tossing it on the armchair in the corner of the room. The relaxation she felt from not having to hide was immediate. She rotated her head from side to side, releasing the tension in her neck that built up from her holding her it steady. It was a familiar pain, but a pain nonetheless. 

As she moved across the room she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the bed. Though it was still mostly dark in the room, the warm light of the floor lamp she’d turned on when she’d walked in cast a yellow glow around her head and shoulders. She looked tired, or at least that’s how she felt. Even at this distance she could see the bags from lack of sleep and stress under her eyes. Her eyes traveled down her cheeks, down to her neck where the small heads of three sleeping snakes rested against her shoulders. 

She lifted her hand up and touched one, patting it lightly on the top of it’s head. Running her hand slowly up along to where the length of the snake body meet the base of her head, she gave it a light scratch. The three snake heads seemed to be pleased by the affectionate touches, even in sleep, and nuzzled closer to her neck. 

For her this was normal, something she’d always had with her. And for a while it was something she hadn’t known wasn’t “the norm” for the rest of the world. Magical creatures, supernatural beings, monsters— those were all things she learned when she left home; when she learned that that’s how most humans saw people like her. Most humans, not all though. 

She’s been looking to find herself, to see what made her different, only to find that the very thing she thought wasn’t special was the very thing that made her stand out. But out there, out in “the real world”, standing out was not what she’d wanted. Krolia wanted safety and comfort and stability and love. And torn between who she knew she was and what she wanted, she had to reach for what was actually achievable. Even if that meant giving up what she wanted most in the world. 

Memories of a home flooded her mind and she had to turn her face away from the mirror. It was too painful to remember, yet somehow also too important to ignore. It was what was fueling her now, though not a moment went by that she wasn’t desperately trying to push aside years of anguish to focus on what she needed to concentrate on right now: finding her son. 

Krolia walked into the small kitchenette, pulling out some leftovers she’d stored in the mini fridge. Popping it in the microwave, she stood there, tapping her fingers on the counter as she watched the Chinese food container spin slowly through the microwave window. The smell of heating orange chicken seemed to stir the snake heads awake and they began to flick their tongues softly, smelling the cooking meat in the air. 

Taking her heated food and grabbing a fork she’d left on the counter, Krolia walked over to the small table and sat down, pushing aside heaps of papers and notes she’d left there. Before eating, she cut off a few small pieces, handing one each to the now excited snakes at her shoulders. 

“That’s all you’re getting,” she said gently, rubbing one softly on the head as it swallowed. 

Krolia pulled over a few papers as she ate. It held some of her more recent notes; a few locations, addresses, a name underlined and circled (Kolivan). Chewing a bite of food, she set that aside and pulled close a small notebook. It was old, and the leather binding was slightly worn in parts and the pages were thick with writing despite still having a few blank pages left. 

She ran her fingers along the cover before opening up to the first page. Tucked between the cover and the first page were a few photos, bent at the corners and slightly creased from being stuck inside a small notebook. There weren’t many, just four, each with the same subjects: her husband and her son. 

For years she’d done nothing but stare at these photographs, committing each pixel to memory. The photo of the three of them, taken in the living room of their home. The picture of her husband holding their son, his baby fist holding his father’s finger in his tiny grasp. The one of them both in the sun, playing in the desert dirt out in front of their home. And the photo of their sleeping baby, and her holding him, her husband reflected taking the picture in the mirror behind her. 

Each one of those were burned into Krolia’s mind, impossible to forget. She didn’t want to forget. She had spent so long telling herself that as long as she remembered them that she could go back, she could be with them again. They remained alive in her thoughts so they were alive in reality. She just had to find them. 

Finishing up her food, she cleared up her leftovers, tossing the container into the garbage. She was just about to settle in for bed, tired from the day when she heard a hard, rapid knock on her door. 

Immediately she was on high alert. She’d given specific instructions to the motel cleaning crew that she was to be left alone and she was expecting no visitors. In fact she hadn’t even told anyone she was here. 

Another round of knocking came from the door and she moved into high gear. First she reached for her jacket she had tossed on the armchair. Pulling it on, she pulled up the collar, covering her neck and snakes and hiding them from view. She pulled out her gun that was tucked in its holster tucked under her pant leg. 

Clareful to stay out of view of the blinds, she moved toward the door as silently as she could. She placed her eye on the peephole, holding the gun out and ready at her side. Through the hole, despite it being quite dark outside, she could see a figure filling the field of vision. It took her a moment to recognize who it was but as soon as she did, Krolia swung the door open, gun raised and pointed at the man. 

“Why are you following me?” Krolia asked, voice steady and direct. She held her gun, pointing it at his chest with an unwavering glare directly at him. 

“I needed to make sure you were who I thought you were,” he said, seemingly unperturbed by the gun pointed at him. He stood large and hulking in the doorway, face most obscured in the shadow of the dark outside. 

“Yeah? And who are you?” she asked, thumbing the hammer on the back of the gun. 

“Kolivan.” 

She paused. Swallowing, she lowered her gun, turning the safety back on and stuffing it back into her holster. After a brief second, Krolia stepped aside motioning for Kolivan to come in. He gave her a small nod and walked inside. Before closing the door, Krolia stuck her head out, looking from side to side making sure no one had seen them. When she was confident that they remained unseen, she closed the door and locked it. 

Turning around she was surprised at what she saw. Being gone from her people for so long, it was almost a shock to see Kolivan pull aside the collar of his jacket to reveal one long python like snake that had wrapped itself around his neck. It slowly unfurled, curling on his shoulder and eyeing her with a careful, considering look, and it’s tongue flicking out and tasting the air with fervent curiosity. 

Without pause, she lowered her own collar revealing the three snakes that had been covered by the leather. She could feel them moving with excitement and hesitation at the sight of another one of their kind. On reflex, she placed a hand at the back of her head, giving the moving snakes a reassuring pat. At her touched they seemed to relax, but still on alert. 

“I hear you have been looking for me,” Kolivan said, his eyes drifting down to Krolia’s snakes. 

“I have,” she nodded, standing up a little bit straighter. “You have information on my son.” 

A look of recognition flitted across Kolivan’s face. “Perhaps we should sit.” He gestured behind him to the small table, still covered in papers and notes. 

Krolia looked between him and the table, still calculating whether or not she trusted this man who managed to slip from her sight and then track her down without her knowing. But the promise of seeing her son was too great to pass up. Still hesitant, she walked over to the table, taking a seat in the chair opposite from him, brushing aside and collecting some of the papers and notes and moving them out of the way. 

“I noticed,” Kolivan began, setting both elbows on the table and folding his fingers, “that you were back in Arizona. I wasn’t sure for what reason exactly. And it wasn’t until I heard from one of my colleagues that you’d been in contact that I realized what for.” 

“Thace told me you would be able to help me, that you knew what I was looking for,” she said leaning her forearms on the table, folding them on top of one another under her as she leaned forward. 

“Krolia, we have a very,” he paused, searching for the right word, “ _ delicate _ system set up here. It is not the most friendly to  _ our kind _ in these parts.” He emphasized his words, pushing meaning and implication in them that hung heavy in the air between them. “And therefore our actions have to be covert, quiet, and done with care. I can’t have someone barreling in and asking questions.” 

She frowned. “Well then how was I supposed to get what I needed to know?” 

He sighed. “Around here, Knowledge or Death sometimes come hand in hand. And not just for those seeking the knowledge, but for those unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire.” 

Krolia thought of her son. A lump caught in her throat and the thought that she had inadvertently placed him in harm's way. “Has something happened to him?” 

“No,” Kolivan said earnestly. “I gave my word that no harm would come to him and he’d be safe and I’ve kept that promise.” 

She let out a small breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Krolia opened her mouth and closed it a few times, trying to decide how to phrase what she wanted to say. “Where is he?” 

“I can’t tell you,” Kolivan said. 

Anger flared up inside her. She could feel her snake lift themselves up and begin to hiss threateningly at Kolivan in response to her mood. 

“But I can take you there.” 

Instantly the anger faded. Krolia sighed in relief. “Thank you,” she said, feeling suddenly exhausted. The whiplash of emotions she had just gone through made her tired and drained, as if she’d just run a marathon in a minute. 

“But not today,” Kolivan said. “I need to make some preparations, ensure safety, arrange things.” 

“Then when?” she asked impatiently. 

“I can take you there tomorrow night,” he said. “If you want to avoid any prying eyes, you’ll wait.” 

She let out a humorless laugh. “I’ve already waited 20 years. What’s one more night?” 

He seemed to take a bit of pity on her, looking at her sympathetically. “I’ll retrieve you from here tomorrow night. Be ready to travel by sundown.” He stood up from the table. “I give you my word.” 

“Thank you,” she said, standing up as well. 

He nodded to her, walking towards the door, carefully letting the snake wrap itself around his neck again and settle in comfortably on his chest as he pulled his collar up to shield it from view. Kolivan said nothing else as he opened the door to the motel room and vanished off into the semi darkness of the desert night. 

Krolia watched him walk away until she could no longer see him. She took a step back, closing the door and locking it, putting on every lock the door had available. She just needed to be left alone for a moment. 

Stumbling back a few steps, her knees hit the side and she collapsed on the bed, sitting and staring out into nothing in front of her. The world around her felt like it was spinning and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. She gripped her hands down on the sheets beneath her, trying to get herself from feeling so dizzy but to no avail. 

The realization that within the next 24 hours she was going to finally see her son again, for the first time in 20 years, was just starting to sink in. Even though she’d been thinking about him nonstop, and searching for him for a long while, and hoping and praying that she could see him soon, actually knowing that it was going to happen was more emotional than she’d ever prepared for. Krolia felt tears drop from her cheeks and onto her hands in her lap before she even realized she’d started crying. 

With a sniffle, she wiped away the wetness around her eyes, dodging the curious faces of her snakes who were trying to lick at the salty liquid coating her cheeks. She shrugged off her jacket, tossing it back onto the armchair in the corner, suddenly feeling far too hot and stuffy to be wearing something so heavy. The exhaustion she’d felt earlier seemed to come back in full force, sinking deep into her bones, and pulling her down into sleep. 

Krolia didn’t even bother getting up to turn off the light. She simply laid back, kicked off her boots, and fell asleep. 

* * *

 

Waiting was not Krolia’s specialty. Patience she had, she could do patience. But only when she could busy herself with something else to take her mind off of whatever she was waiting for. 

Right now however, she had nothing to take her mind off of the painfully slow passage of time. There was nothing she could do in the meantime. There were no more notes to pour over, no more ideas to jot down, no more people find. She had done it. Over a year of searching and she’d finally done it. And now Krolia was hours away from seeing her son again and all she had to do was wait. 

Which was painful. 

She tried everything to get her mind off of essentially, counting down an entire day. She watched some TV, read a little bit, cleaned up some of her mess in her motel room. And even then all of that took up only a few hours, leaving her with only another several left to go.  

Frustrated, Krolia decided to get out of the motel room fo a while, to clear her head a bit. Pulling on her leather jacket, she grabbed her room key and stuffed it in her pocket next to her wallet and closed the door shut behind her. She swirled her keys around her forefinger, singling out the out the one for her motorcycle as she approached it. Taking a glance around the mostly empty motel parking lot, she pulled up her collar higher and tighter, ignoring the protestive hiss that came from beneath it. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she pulled on her helmet, making sure that each snake fit inside, and climbed onto her bike. 

Riding out in the mid morning Arizona sun wasn’t something Krolia had done in a long time. The hot air whipping past her, the hot unencumbered sun beating down on her, the salty desert dust crusting her helmets field of vision— all of that stirred up memories from a time well in the past. She could still remember gripping onto a strong waist, pressing up against a broad back, watching the vast sonoran desert cruise past them as they speed down long stretches of empty road. 

Those memories faded into less romantic ones. Memories of hiding, worrying, leaving. The look on her husbands face when she told him she had to go, for his safety— for their child’s safety. The painful walk, exiting their front door for the last time. Leaving her child behind. 

Krolia pressed on the gas, the bike’s engine roaring with life sending her speeding down the road. She barely paid attention to the cars passing her by, or even any of the small buildings that littered the road sides. Lost in her memory, she just drove. 

Sometime later, Krolia had no idea how long, she pulled into a small gas station to fill the tank of her motorcycle up. It was hours later, that much she could tell. The sun had finally began its descent along the horizon, the sparse mountains eclipsing it at its edges. Keeping her helmet on, she began filling her tank, keeping her head down as she did. If Kolivan’s cryptic behavior last night was any indication that things around here hadn’t changed much since she’s been here last, then she was better off not garnering any attention. 

Just as she was finished, she moved to turn her bike back on, when a white truck pulled up at the pump beside her. Shielded by the tint of her helmet, she glanced over at the driver to see the bartender from last night exit out of the driver’s seat. He had his phone pressed between his shoulder and cheek, speaking in a calm voice as he readied his car. As Krolia got back on her bike, she slowed to hear his side of the conversation. 

“... yeah I’ll stop by and pick it up… no I remember… it’s ok you don’t have to—yeah… no I know, he already told me… tonight yeah, that’s what Kolivan said.” 

Her ears perked up at the sound of Kolivan’s name. There was no way that was a coincidence. It wasn’t exactly the most common name. He had to be talking about the same guy. If he was the bartender where she first saw Kolivan then it was entirely possible that he was talking about him. Even thinking back he acted like he’d known him back at the bar. 

_ This can’t be a coincidence.  _

She could feel her heart racing in her chest. Krolia had to make split second decision, and her gut told her that somehow this was related to what happened yesterday. How could it not be? 

Taking a while and feigning making adjustments to the dashboard of her motorcycle, she tried to listen in more to what he was saying, but the sounds of other cars pulling into the gas station drowned out his voice. She waited until he had paid for his gas and gotten back in his truck, and she followed him out of the gas station. 

Keeping a reasonable distance from his truck, she watched him, following him down long roads and well into the small town that seemed to sit at the edge of the mountain surrounded desert. Something inside her kept telling her that he knew something, that it wasn’t a coincidence that she’d overheard him on the phone mentioning Kolivan. That pushed something inside her to continue. She had to know. 

Kolivan’s words that he would meet her back at the motel and take her to her son moved fleetingly passed her mind as she continued behind the truck, keeping her distance. Taking care to stay out of his sight in his rearview mirrors, she followed him for a while, trying to see if he’d lead her somewhere that would explain things. They drove through the town and out the other side, further and further out into the dry sonoran desert. 

The few cars between them shielded her, though every so often she’d flank a car, just to double check that he was still indeed infront of her. And on one particular check, after passing a particular winding, though singular road, she found that somehow he’d vanished from her sight. Almost skidding to a stop, Krolia swerved out off the road, stopping a few dozen feet into the desert. 

In that moment she couldn’t be bothered to care to hide and she ripped off her helmet as she scanned the horizon. Besides the mildly busy road she had just been on, the horizon was clear, only the red blocks of distant mountains and the faint outline of the town could be seen in the rust colored desert. She brought her hands up to her eyes, shielding them from the bright Arizona sun blazing down on her. But she still could see nothing. No fleeing truck, leaving a trail of dust in its wake as it made its way off road. 

She stood there for a long moment, feeling confused, frustrated. She had been sure that there was some connection. The hope that maybe it had been her son on the other end of the line of that phone call was enough to have her tail a man she’d only met once before. 

Scrunching her face in frustration, she pulled her helmet back on, not taking as much care to accommodate the snakes as they would have wanted, hissing at her as she stuffed the helmet on over her head. Kicking the stand back, she revved the engine loudly and hit the gas, her back wheel spinning out wildly before she got control and directed the motorcycle in the direction of the road. She merged back on the road, this time heading backwards from they came from. 

Krolia let the road lead her back. She stopped really paying attention to where and how long she was driving for, just letting the long stretched desert roads lead her. Her mind emptied as she watched the sun slowly dip below the horizon, the rushing air clearing her thoughts. She only had one thing on her mind now: Keith. 

* * *

 

It was only as she heard a quick knock on her motel room door that Krolia realized she hadn’t eaten. She been so preoccupied with her thoughts of seeing her son again that basic health went by the wayside. 

She crossed the room, already dressed and ready to leave. When she opened the door Kolivan stood there, his jacket collar up and covering his neck in the same way that hers ways. He gave her a brief nod and motioned for her to follow him. 

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out, closing the door behind her. The gravel of the motel parking lot crunches under her feet and the sound drowned out any thoughts rushing through her mind. She couldn’t formulate a complete thought, only catching bits and fragments; things like “Keith” and “white truck” and “20 years” weaved in and out of her head. 

She followed Kolivan to a small black car, low and sleek. Had it not been for the flickering orange sodium light vaguely illuminating the parking lot, she might not have seen it—which might have been the point. Without a word, Kolivan rounded the car and dropped into the driver's seat. Taking the cue, she opened up the passenger side door and slid in, closing it with a soft thud behind her. 

She wasn’t overly fond of cars, much more preferring motorcycles that didn’t leave her feeling encased and confined. But in this moment she couldn’t even bring herself to feel uncomfortable. 

Her heart was racing as Kolivan turned on the car and put it in drive. She was feeling a tumultuous combination of excitement and fear. She felt as if her insides were going to spill out from all the twisting and turning she could feel in her gut. 

Trying to keep herself calm, she focused on the road ahead of her. Krolia was glad Kolivan wasn’t much of a talker and they drove in silence down the solitary Arizona desert roads, their low headlights the only illumination cutting through the darkness. Though hard to see exactly where she was, she tracked landmarks. A bent yield sign. An abandoned car. A craggily looking rock formation. She mapped out the way in her head as best she could desperate to memorize it just in case. 

It wasn’t long before she found herself on a familiar stretch of road. It was a particularly winding path that led through a few rocky hills. She instantly recognized and remembered it as the stretch of road where she’d lost track of the white truck she’d been following. And if she hadn’t been paying so much attention she might have missed the moment when Kolivan veered off the road and down the hillside. 

Krolia went to let out a startled yelp when suddenly they were on a road again. Only this time the road was flat and clear. It looked barely paved, more like a packed dirt driveway then a road. She looked at Kolivan in confusion. 

“It’s a displacement spell,” Kolivan said sending her question on her tongue. “An extra measure of protection.” He glanced over at her. “I said I had given my word to keep him safe.” 

She didn’t know what to say, and nothing concrete came to mind so she stayed silent, watching the glowing moon in the sky as they drove. 

It wasn’t a long drive from there, only a few minutes until she could see a small, but relatively nice house in front of them. It was wooden, with a small porch and a tree that had a tree swing that hung down from the lower branches. Krolia’s breath caught in her throat as recognition dawned on her. 

“It’s… it’s the same house,” she whispered, more to herself than anything else. 

“Like I said, a displacement spell,” Kolivan said putting the car in park and turning of the engine. He sat there for a moment watching her take in the sight of the house. “Are you ready?” 

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry and thick. “Yes.” 

Without another word, Kolivan stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, Krolia undid her seatbelt and stepped out of the car. 

It was sort of incredible how she felt transported back in time. For a moment she was 20 years younger, lost, alone, confused about her place in the world. And she’d just met the most amazing boy who felt like all the answers to all her questions. And she was hopeful. 

“Come on,” Kolivan said, breaking her of her thoughts. 

The past faded in front of her, leaving Krolia standing squarely in the present. It was odd, seeing it in person again outside of her memories. She had kept this place alive in her mind for so long part of her wondered if she’d fabricated the whole thing. 

With heavy steps, she walked up the dirt path to the stairs that led to the porch. She let Kolivan take the lead, stepping in front of her and giving the door a quick few knocks. Krolia found herself holding her breath as she heard footsteps approach door and he doorknob turn. With Kolivan blocking her way, she could only see the glow of the lights inside illuminate the doorway. 

“Kolivan,” a voice said. Krolia’s stomach flipped. “When you called, I… what is this about?” 

“I think this might explain somethings” Kolivan said, taking a step aside revealing Krolia behind him. 

Her breath caught in her chest at the sight of him. Krolia took in Keith in front of her, haloed in the soft glow of the living room lights behind him. The image in her mind of the sleeping baby who would curl his small hand around one of her fingers morphed into the the grown young man in front of her. She was struck by just how much he looked like his father; the same skin tone, the same hair color, the same brow bent quizzically at her. 

“Keith,” she heard herself say, unsure how she even had the ability to form coherent thoughts. 

“How… who… Kolivan what’s going on?” he asked, his voice nervous and trembling. He looked at Kolivan expectantly, nervously, as if he was frightened. 

Kolivan said nothing but stood firmly next to Krolia. 

“Keith,” she said again, her voice stronger and more in control. “It’s been so long.” 

His eyes flickered back and forth between her and Kolivan. She watched as his chest began to rise and fall rapidly. “Kolivan,” he said again, a pleading tone in his voice. “What’s going on?” 

“I know you probably don’t remember me,” Krolia said taking the smallest step forward. “But I promise you, I left you once, I’m never going to do that again.” 

Realization dawned on his face and his eyes grew wide. “You’re—” He stopped himself, clamping his jaw shut before he could finish. His face skewed up with emotions, his hands shaking at his sides. “You’re my mom? How? How did you find me? How do you know for certain?”

“She is, Keith,” Kolivan cut in. “This is your mother.” 

He shook his head in complete disbelief. “I… I don’t understand.” 

“Maybe we should come inside,” Kolivan said gesturing into the house.   
As if the thought hadn’t occurred to him, Keith nodded briefly as he stepped out of the way, motioning for them to come inside. Krolia tried to catch his eye as she walked in, but he kept his head lowered. 

She looked around the room. It was similar to when she’d last been there. The couch and the chairs were in mostly the same arrangement, though they looked much newer. The TV was bigger, a flat screen, much different than the boxy thick ones she’d seen in its place decades ago. She turned her head, glancing back into the kitchen. It also looked newer, though still as rough around the edges as she remembered it. There was something so surreal about stepping into a house she once considered a home and finding it almost changed. It was like she’d stepped into a dream version of her memory, but it was someone else’s dream. 

Kolivan led them to the living room, motioning to the the chairs and couch. Krolia sat in a chair across from Keith who dropped onto the couch, still looking down at the floor. “I’ll let you two talk,” he said stepping away. She watched him walk into the kitchen, separate enough that he couldn’t be seen behind the wall. 

His absence left a void of silence that filled the air between them. Words flooded Krolia’s mouth but none came out. She just stared at Keith, awed by the reality of sitting in front of him. Her son. Finally. 

“I…” Keith began after a long moment. “I have so many questions.” 

“I’m sure you do,” she said calmly. “I would like to answer as many as I can.” 

He looked up at her, his gaze heavy and emotional. “Are you like them? Is it true that I’m part…” 

She understood what he was asking. Instead of responding, she lowered her jacket collar, revealing the three quiet, slumbering snakes resting on her shoulders. To Keith’s credit he simply nodded, glancing down at the snakes and then back at her. 

“Kolivan told me that I was but I just…” he trailed off, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I don’t look like he does, or you do. So I… it was hard to believe.” 

“You look so much like your father,” Krolia said softly. It just came out. She hadn’t mean to say it, not so soon after meeting him; she didn’t want to scare him away. But it was true. He looked so much like his father. 

Thankfully Keith seemed to respond to that better than she could have ever hoped for. A weak, half smile bent his lips. She could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes and she felt and extreme urge to wipe them away, but she pushed it down. “Thanks,” he said thickly. “He…” he let out a small huff of a laugh, barely more than a breath, “he used to tell me I looked like you.” 

Krolia’s heart clenched. “You do.” She watched him look between him, and his pale skin and dark hair, to her, with her violet tinted skin and indigo hair. Part of her in that moment wished she hadn’t said that. 

“Yeah well,” he sighed, turning his head to look out towards the night filled window. “So… why… why now? Why come find me now?” 

She actually had thought about this answer a lot. She’d expected him to ask her this. Why come looking for him now, and not before? Why wait so long?

“It’s… it’s complicated,” she began. He shot her an unhappy glare. “But,” she continued, “the short version is I had asked a friend, Ulaz, to keep an eye out for you and for your father. To make sure you guys were safe. But when I heard what happened to him, and…” she took a steadying breath, “what had had happened to your father I was worried that your safety had been compromised. And so I thought it was time for me to come find you again because I thought you’d be old enough to understand.” 

“Old enough to understand what?” 

“Why I left,” she said quietly. 

There was a pause. 

“Why did you leave?” Keith asked. His voice was so small and timid it nearly broke Krolia’s heart to hear him ask. 

Her eyes searched his face seeing every bit of 20 years of wondering and asking that exact question over and over again. “That’s also complicated.” 

He sucked his teeth in frustration. “I’m not stupid ok? I know that there’s a war. I know that it’s not safe for people like you, like Kolivan, like Ulaz, and Thace, and all the others. I know ok. I know.” 

“Then you must understand why I left,” Krolia pleaded. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want you, or want to stay with you, or with your father. Keith, I wanted that more than anything. I left to protect you.” 

“How was leaving me protecting me!?” Keith said, his voice raised and emotional. “You left! You left and dad died and I was alone!” 

“Keith,” she began, quietly and calmly. “If I had stayed who knows what could have happened to you.” 

He sat back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, leveling her an unyielding stare. 

“I wanted nothing more than to see you. I thought of you and your father every single day,” she said. “But I knew that to keep you safe I had to go and fight, and make a difference, because otherwise how could I live with myself if something happened to you.” 

“So you chose your duty over your own family,” Keith said.

“No,” Krolia said, shaking her head. “I chose to protect my family.” Keith clenched his jaw and looked away. “Keith I can tell you that without a doubt leaving you and your father behind was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my entire life. It was truly painful and heartbreaking. For all of us.” 

The tears she’d seen forming at the corner of his eyes, began to fall. He stared out the window, teeth clenched and hands in fists. 

“I can only apologise for the pain I’ve put you through, and I can hope that maybe… just maybe we can start fresh.” 

Keith’s brow furrowed. He brought a hand up and wiped away a few tears with curt, hard motions. “I’ve wanted to hate you,” he said after a moment. “I’ve wanted to hate you so badly for so long.” 

Krolia had expected this somewhat. She knew there was going to be some anger and resentment. But still, hearing those words hurt something inside her.

“I understand,” she nodded. 

“I don’t though,” Keith added, sniffling. He glanced at her. “I wanted to hate you but I couldn’t. I can’t.” 

“Keith, I—”

“It’s so weird,” he said, his voice so quiet. “Even in all the times when I’d convinced myself that you left because you hated me and I hated you, I would have given anything to have you walk in through the door. Because at the end of the day, I just wanted my mom.” 

That was what broke Krolia’s stoicness. She felt a few tears run down her cheeks, falling on the heads of the sleeping snakes, waking them up with a small hiss. She quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand but more kept coming as she pushed them away. “I can’t— I can’t make up for not being there, but I want to try to show you that I’m here now. For whatever that means to you.” 

“It means a lot,” Keith said, his voice low and genuine. 

Krolia smiled softly. “Good.” 

* * *

 

Her mind kept supplying the word “surreal” to describe how this felt, but that word wasn’t strong enough. It was like being in a dream, but a perfect one where you know you’re in a dream but you don’t want to wake up because if you do you’ll never be able to have that dream again. It was more than surreal, it was hyperreal. 

Krolia sat on a couch, in the home she once called her own for a brief period of time, talking to her son that she hadn’t seen for most of his entire life, bonding over things she hadn’t even thought they’d bond over. Small things. Foods they like. Pet peeves they shared. Similar habits. 

It felt like they talked for hours. Krolia wanted to know everything about Keith and it seemed like the interview was mutual. She asked about everything she could think of. Growing, school, his friends, his relationships, his likes, his dislikes, his interests, his hobbies, everything. She couldn’t get the questions out fast enough. 

It wasn’t until the door opened again that she realized just how long she’d been there. 

The sound caught their attention and the both of them turned to look at the front door. In stepped the bartender that Krolia had seen at the gas station. Her heart thudded with recognition and confirmation. She’d been right, it hadn’t been a coincidence. And when she’d followed him earlier he must have turned down the winding road, passing the displacement spell. She couldn’t believe how closed she’d gotten. 

“Keith I’m sorry, I couldn’t get out of work early enough. I saw Kolivan’s car out front, did he—“ he froze when he saw Krolia sitting in the living room.

From here in the light of the living room Krolia finally got a better look at him. He was tall and broad, clearly very fit. His right arm that he held a small plastic bag with was a metal prosthetic that matched in muscularity with his other natural arm. He looked between her and Keith with confusion, recognition filling his face as his eyes met hers. 

“Shiro,” Keith said getting up from the couch. 

“What’s going on?” Shiro asked hesitantly.

“This is Krolia,” Keith said gesturing to her. “She’s… she’s my mom.” 

Krolia stood up, walking over to Shiro, her hand extended. “It’s nice to properly meet you. Keith has just been telling me all about you.” 

He looked her up and down briefly, still frozen for a moment before scrambling to switch the bag he was holding to his other hand. Quickly he grabbed Krolia’s hand and shook it. “It can’t believe you’re actually here.” 

“Neither can I,” Krolia said with a small smile. 

“Shiro,” Kolivan said, stepping out into the living room. “Come on, I've been giving them some time alone.” He motioned for Shiro to follow him back into the kitchen but Krolia stopped them. 

“Actually if you don’t mind I’d like him to stay,” she said, holding a hand up. “I’d like to get to know him as well.” 

“Of course,” Kolivan nodded. He stepped away again, giving them some privacy. 

Shiro quickly rushed into the kitchen, placed down the bag on the counter and then jogged back out, coming to sit next to Keith on the couch. He sat close to him, their legs touching, with his arm draped loosely behind Keith. His posture was entirely protective of Keith; Krolia found it comforting in a way. 

“So… I don’t know how much I’ve missed,” Shiro began after a moment. “But, if you don’t mind me asking, how are you here? After so long? Wh–what happened?” 

“It’s complicated,” both Keith and Krolia said in unison. That alone was enough to make them both smile softly. 

Krolia launched into her explanation, retelling and explaining why she left when Keith was younger and why she was here now. To Shiro’s credit, he sat and listened the whole time, nodding quietly and not interrupting even when it was clear he had questions. When she’d finally finished, he sat for a long moment, processing what he had just heard. 

“Shiro?” Keith said, dipping his head slightly to get in Shiro’s eye line. 

“Yeah sorry, I’m just,” Shiro said blinking himself back out of his thoughts. He looked up at Keith, both of them looking like they were on the cusp of an emotion neither of them could yet understand. “You’ve wanted to meet her for so long. And she’s here, it’s just… I don’t know. Incredible, I guess.”

Keith smiled softly. “Yeah.” 

“And you’re just like Kolivan, you’re…” his eyes dipped down from her face to her snakes and back up, lingering on her facial markings. 

“Yes,” Krolia nodded. 

“Why doesn’t Keith look like that though?” Shiro asked, glancing at Keith’s very human appearance. 

“He’s part human, human genes are very strong,” Krolia said with a small shrug. “It’s better this way. He can live a far more normal life.” They all fell silent, the truth of his very non-normal life hung in the air between them. “Well, much closer to normal.” 

“What even is normal anyway?” Shiro added lightly, cutting through the tension. Keith gave him a small smile, and Shiro moved his hand to rub at his back lightly. 

Their casual and gentle interactions really moved Krolia. In the back of her mind she’d always worried that Keith was alone and lost, much like she had been when she was his age. And after finding out what had happened to his father… she thought the worst. But seeing them, seeing how clearly Shiro, and even Kolivan, cared for Keith, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. 

“Oh,” Shiro said turning back to her as if he’d just remembered she was still sitting there, “did you want something, like food or something to drink?” 

“I—” the sound of her stomach growing and the snakes hissing with hunger cut her off. At the mention of food she remembered she’d basically spent the entire day without eating. “Actually yeah, I’d love some food.” 

“Ok,” Shiro said, getting up from the couch. He pressed a brief kiss to the top of Keith’s head before walking towards the kitchen. 

Krolia watched him walk away, turning back to look at Keith, who had his gaze turned to the floor, covered his mouth with his knuckles. He looked nervous, and slightly embarrassed, and it was such an almost ridiculous feeling but Krolia felt weirdly happy to see it. It was like, despite the time apart and being estranged, no one was immune to being embarrassed in front of their mother. 

“He’s nice,” Krolia said one she knew Shiro was out of earshot. 

Keith lifted his eyes up, meeting hers with a look of apprehension but also gratitude. “He is. Nice. He’s very nice.” 

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she figured out exactly what she wanted to say. “I’m glad you’re not alone, Keith. Not anymore at least.” 

Keith swallowed, glancing away for a moment. “You… you don’t have to be either,” he began carefully, as if he wasn’t sure if he was overstepping. “I don’t,” he sighed, “I know we just found each other again and… and maybe—definitely it’s gonna take time to get used to, you know, having you around. But I’d uh… I’d like having you around… if that’s ok with you.” 

Emotion gathered in Krolia’s throat. Her voice came out thick and watery, “I’d like that very much.”  

* * *

Leaving was even more surreal than arriving. The sun had just begun to peak over the mountainous horizon sending streaks of golden light soaring through the cobalt sky. They hadn’t even realized how late it had become until the sun started to rise. 

The four of them had stayed up the whole night, talking, eating, talking some more. Krolia didn’t even feel tired, she was wide awake. She didn’t want to close her eyes for a minute and miss any of this. 

But Keith was human, and so was Shiro, and they grew obviously tired as the hours stretched on. Keith was clearly fighting off sleep, forcing himself awake. He, like his mother, couldn’t seem to tear himself away, not even for a moment. 

However, after his 10th consecutive yawn, Kolivan decided that it was probably time for everyone to get some rest. Krolia agreed, however reluctantly. Even Keith looked like he was going to protest, despite barely keeping his eyes open and with a sleeping Shiro resting his head on his shoulder. 

“Get some rest,” Krolia said standing in the doorway. 

Keith carefully lifted Shiro’s head off his shoulder and got up from the couch and walked over to the door. “You’re leaving?” He looked so vulnerable and unsure, almost child-like. It pulled at Krolia’s heart. 

“Just to get some sleep,” she said softly, “I’ll be back. I promise.” 

Looking at each other for a long moment, Krolia gave into the impulse and pulled Keith into a hug. She could feel him stiffen at first and then almost immediately melt, wrapping his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her neck. The snakes hissed softly, almost affectionately, and placed themselves on top of Keith’s head as if to be part of the hug. Krolia held him close for as long as she could, taking in the moment and committing it to memory. This was what she’d been waiting years for; to have her son in her arms again. 

She pulled back after a minute, holding him at arm’s length. Krolia took the moment to just look at him, taking it all in. The waiting, the searching, the hoping— all of it finally done. She couldn’t believe it. 

“I… I want you to know that there was not one moment where I didn’t miss you,” she said. 

Keith nodded, looking exhausted but emotional. “I know.” He bit his lip, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should say what he wanted to. 

“What is it Keith?” she asked. 

“You’re staying right?” Keith asked. “For a while at least?” He looked at her hopefully. 

She gave him a small smile. “Like I said,” Krolia said softly, “I left you once, I’m not leaving you again.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you again to @forfandomsaken for the commission!!!


End file.
